Pretend to be in love
by niadk
Summary: Elena owes a lot to her sister, Katherine. So when she asks her to sneak into Damon Salvatore's office one night to retrieve a file, Elena can't say no. When Damon unexpectedly returns to the office, catching her, he offers her a choice. AU/AH
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

_**Author's Note**__: I am sure I 've read this story (or something like this) on a Mills & Boon's novel (No copyright infringement intended). I had this idea into my head but I believe it is because I read something like this (or maybe something exactly like this) in one of the novels. The thing is I have read hundreds Mills & Boon's novels, so I am not sure which one is that. Did I make sense? Probably not. Anyway, this is my first attempt to write AU. I hope you will enjoy it and I hope you will let me know what you think about it. So... enjoy _

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><p>Elena Gilbert stopped and listened, her heart beating wildly. Had she heard an elevator stop? She waited in the gloom of the empty room, but she didn't hear another sound. She was all alone in an executive office at Salvatore Inc., and it was definitely after hours. The building was deserted.<p>

She squinted into the dim light. Did they call this breaking and entering? Well, entering, anyway — entering handsome director of legal services Damon Salvatore's office when she shouldn't even be on this floor.

"Oh, Katherine," she muttered, half in despair, half in amusement. Her irrepressible sister always managed to put her into sticky situations like this. It happened all the time. Katherine got into messes and Elena got her out of them.

"Just look for a green folder with a plastic clip at the top," Katherine had told her, anxiously wringing her hands. "If you can manage to bring that folder to me, you'll save my life!"

"And risk losing my own in the process," Elena murmured after bumping into a sharp corner and bruising her knee. She clicked on the little flashlight she'd brought along and shined the feeble beam around the walls, looking for the filing cabinets. A ray of light fell on a picture of Damon Salvatore with Alaric Saltzman, the owner and president of the accounting firm and she paused for a moment, studying it.

The two had been college roommates, from what she'd heard, and they looked like men who had a strong bond of affection between them. They were both tall, dark-haired, and good-looking, but something in Damon appealed to her in an inexplicable way. Something in his blue eyes, something in the way his mouth twisted, something in his face, all told her he didn't trust life to be fair — that he didn't give his heart easily.

But it was silly for her to be thinking that way. She'd seen the man from a distance, but she didn't know him at all. And from what her sister, who had worked as his administrative assistant for a short time, had told her, he was as vain and arrogant as they came. Still, there was something in his eyes.…

A small clicking sound made her jump, but it was just the air-conditioning system coming on and she collected herself. She had to get this done!

Quickly, she moved toward the wooden filing cabinet, hoping the drawers weren't locked. The first drawer pulled open with no problem, but the orderly files didn't include any hint of green. She tried the second drawer, then the third, and finally hit pay dirt. There it was, right at the back behind the tightly packed folders.

She reached out to take it and her fingers actually touched the clip for a fraction of a second. And then a larger, darker hand grabbed hers. Her flashlight went flying and she let out a shriek.

"Looking for something, Katherine?"

The lights came on and the room spun as she whirled. Her gaze rose, taking in the impeccable Italian suit, the crisp white shirt, the extravagantly wide shoulders, the smooth, tan skin…and finally stared up into Damon Salvatore's cool blue gaze.

There was certainly nothing appealing in his eyes now!

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><p>The beautiful intruder had stunning brown eyes and Damon saw the startled look in them change with quick intelligence as she got her bearings.<p>

"Katherine?" she said innocently, blinking at him. "Sorry, I'm not Katherine. You must have the wrong office." And she turned to go, head in the air.

His flash of original anger faded, replaced by a sense of grudging admiration for her cheek. But he wasn't about to let her get away with it. She brushed past him, leaving a trail of rose-flavored scent as she moved, but he reached out and took possession of her upper arm before she got out the door.

"Nice try," he said, pulling her back and speaking in a low voice very near her ear. "But not quite good enough."

She glanced up at him and he noted once again that she did look a lot like a certain Katherine Gilbert who had worked in this office with him for a couple of months. Where Katherine's beauty had been all flash and no substance, this one had a softer, quieter charm; still, they looked very much alike. He had no doubt that had been Katherine's file she had been reaching for. Most likely, she was cut from the same con-artist cloth.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

She hesitated, gaze flickering toward the doorway and escape. "I'm not accustomed to giving my name to strangers," she began, but he cut her off with a rude oath.

"I just caught you burglarizing my office."

"I was not burglarizing your office," she said indignantly, her eyes shining with offended innocence. "Now please let me go."

"Not so fast," he murmured, his gaze trailing down the graceful curve of her neck and back again.

Her eyes were wary, hiding any emotions behind a calm facade. The thick curls of her brown hair were rebelling against the professional twist she'd tried to tame them with and wiry strands were escaping all around her pretty face.

Despite everything, she had a look he liked. For just a moment, he almost felt as though a part of him yearned for something he saw in her. But that was pure fancy and he shrugged it away. Sentiments like that didn't fit with his cynical view of relationships. "Yearning" was for chumps.

Still, he knew she was more his type than the women he was going to be meeting tonight at the cocktail party his father had arranged. Giuseppe Salvatore wanted his son married and he was sparing no expense. He was also forcing him to deal with an endless string of eligible yet unappealing women and demanding he choose one to spend his life with. If only more of them looked like this one.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to wait here while I contact Security." He reached for the telephone with his free hand. "I'm sure they'll want to notify the police about an intruder in the building."

She caught her breath, her eyes luminous, visions of her job going down the drain creating nightmares in her head. "Please…please don't."

He gazed at her coolly. "Give me a reason not to."

She hesitated and he shrugged and resumed punching in the number. Mercy wasn't in the cards, no matter how much her soft curves and pretty face appealed to him.

Elena grabbed Damon's hand, stopping him before he'd finished the number. "I'm not an intruder," she insisted. "I…I work here."

He cocked a skeptical eyebrow. A face like this he would have noticed. "Identify yourself."

Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze. "I'm Elena Gilbert. I'm a designer, doing the decorating in the new day care center. I just started this week."

"Ah." He replaced the receiver, his blue eyes scanning hers. "You're related to Katherine, aren't you?"

She nodded, looking stubborn but resigned. "She is my sister. I know she worked for you."

"For a few weeks, yes." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. They were still filled with the wary cynicism she'd noticed in the picture. "I suppose you were just sightseeing then? Taking a look at where your sister once worked?"

She looked into his face with hope, but immediately saw that he was mocking her. "I've told you who I am. You can see that I'm not a threat to you in any way. Why don't you let me go?"

The fingers that held her arm moved, feeling more like a caress than a punishment. A tiny shiver slithered down her spine. Suddenly his smile seemed dangerous in a whole new way.

"We're all alone, you know," he said softly. "The night cleaning crew hasn't even arrived. Except for Security down on the first floor, there's only you and me."

"That's exactly what's worrying me," she retorted, giving him an impudent frown. "You do have a reputation, you know."

He stared at her for a moment, and then he laughed aloud. "I have a reputation," he said, chuckling. "You're the one I caught rifling through my files." He grinned at her. "Are you trying to say we're a pair of reprobates? Birds of a feather?"

She wasn't trying to say anything at all. She was still too busy trying to recover from the stunning effect his laugh had on her nervous system. He was just too sexy for his own good…well, for her good, at any rate. She could see why her sister had been tempted into having an affair with the man. But that very fact made it doubly imperative that she not do the same.

"Well, don't worry, my fastidious little burglar," he said, his laughter dying away. "I'm not attempting a seduction. I'm only considering a little blackmail."

That startled her. "Blackmail?"

"Yes." His hand slid down to catch hold of her fingers. "Here's how it works. Do what I want you to do — or go to jail."

She scoffed at him. "No one is going to throw me in jail for visiting your office uninvited," she told him, tugging to get her hand free but having no success.

"You think not? Even though the local authorities happen to owe me a favor?"

Her shoulders sagged. She knew very well he came from a wealthy and influential family and she had no doubt what he said was true. If he wanted her inconvenienced for a while, she would be inconvenienced.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, glaring at him.

"Nothing very terrible," he said soothingly. "All I need is that you come with me to a party I have to attend tonight."

She searched his eyes, looking for the catch. "That's it?" His slow smile reappeared. "No. There's one more thing." He raised her fingers to his lips. "You have to pretend to be in love with me," he said, just before he kissed them.

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><p><em><strong>AN: So that was it. Should I continue? Thanks for reading it!<strong>_


	2. The party

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

_**AN: **Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thanks everyone who has reviewed, or put this story to favorites. I TRIED to answer, BUT for some reason I couldnt. I cant sent mesagges etc. So, please forgive me. Also, please forgive any grammar/word mistakes. English is not my first language and since I dont have a beta, I am sure you will find a lot of mistakes. Please be gentle.  
><em>

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><p>"You're crazy," Elena said breathlessly. She could still feel the kiss on her skin and the area tingled. "I…I can't do that."<p>

"Then you'll go to jail."

Damon answered cassually, finally let go of her fingers and she backed a step away.

"Why?" she asked simply. "Why do you want me to do this?"

"Because I'm about to walk into the lion's den," he told her smoothly. "And it occurs to me I could use a shield."

She shook her head. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at deciphering riddles. Why don't you just tell me?"

"You'll figure it out soon enough. But first things first," he added, looking her up and down. "You'll need to change."

"Sorry," she quipped, tossing her head. "I kind of like me the way I am."

"Your clothes," he explained patiently. "The party is at the Mayor Lockwood's residence. Your skirt and sweater aren't dressy enough." Reaching into a closet at the back of his office, he pulled out a dress and held it up for her to see. "What do you think of this? I'll bet it will fit."

She gasped softly. Turquoise silk as soft as gossamer floated over a royal blue sheath with a snug, beaded bodice. Involuntarily, she reached out to touch it. "Oh," she said softly.

"Here. Put it on."

She looked up into his eyes and then her chin lifted rebelliously as she backed away. "I haven't said I would do it yet," she reminded him.

He sighed. "You'll look fantastic in this thing and you know it. Certainly it will look better than prison stripes. Come on, Elena." His mouth twisted cynically. "Be my love."

She flashed him a glare but then bit her lip, thinking. "Tell you what," she said at last. "I'll make you a deal. I'll do it if you promise…" She paused. Should she admit what she'd been after? But he probably already had guessed. "If you promise to let me have Katherine's letters."

His eyes were suddenly flat and expressionless as tinted glass. "You mean the contents of the folder you were reaching for?"

She nodded.

He looked at her quizzically. "There is only one letter in that folder," he said slowly. "And you don't want to see it. Though I can understand why Katherine might want to get it out of my hands." A wry smile played with the corners of his mouth, but his eyes were cool. "What's the matter? Doesn't she trust me?"

Elena flushed. "She would like to have her letter back. If you were a gentleman…"

"But I'm not, so the question is moot." He shook his head. "Sorry, Elena. That folder must stay here in my office. And we need to get to the party."

"But…"

"Get dressed, Elena," he said quietly, touching her cheek with his forefinger, setting off a trail of sensation. "We're late. And I plan to make quite an entrance."

Elena's mind was speeding, trying to understand what was going on, as she went to change her clothes. "_What the hell am I doing?"_ She wondered. The man was not only wealthy but oozed sex appeal—twinkling, bedroom blue eyes, perfect male physique in the tall-dark-and-handsome mould, charming voice and manner with a strikingly sensual mouth that had worn a teasing quirk of amusement as he‟d spoken to Elena. No doubt, with his wealth and looks, the world and everyone in it existed for his amusement. He was probably trying to humilate her by taking her to that party.

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><p>The party was formal and everyone important was there, so Elena was very glad she'd worn the blue silk dress — though she assumed it must belong to one of Damon's many rumored mistresses. He had been right — it fit like a glove. And when she'd seen the look in his eyes as she came out of the ladies' room all ready to go, she'd felt the kind of thrill she used to get as a kid at the fair when the roller coaster went into a steep dive.<p>

She glanced at him as they made their way toward the lobby, noting that he looked awfully good himself. Then she had to smile. What a hypocrite she was! After all, if Damon were a troll, she probably would have called his bluff and opted for the cops. But he was attractive. In fact, he was downright gorgeous, and here she was, wondering how a small expedition to retrieve her sister's love letters had turned into this.

They hesitated just outside the entrance. Damon had explained that the party was being given for him by his father, and Elena was just a little nervous. Mr. Salvatore was famous for his philanthropy — and for his tough exterior. A small orchestra was playing a Strauss waltz against a background of the clinking of expensive crystal mixed with light conversation. Elena shook her head. The party even sounded upper crust.

"Ready?" he asked, folding her hand into the crook of his arm.

She looked up into his blue eyes and wrinkled her nose. "I don't know," she said impishly. "Pretending to be in love with you won't be easy."

He laughed softly and she felt a warm glow spreading deep inside.

Funny, but he'd been laughing a lot and she found she really liked it. His humor had improved ever since his eyes had lit up at the sight of her all dressed up.

It had been a long time since a man had looked at her like that. It had been a long time since she'd made any attempt to produce that sort of reaction. Her last romance had left her with so much pain, she'd pretty much decided relationships weren't worth the risk, and she'd dressed accordingly. But Damon was reminding her of what it was like to be admired by an attractive man — how delicious it could be.

"If we try real hard," he said, leaning close so that his warm breath tickled her ear, "I think we can work something out. Practice makes perfect."

She heard the sensual promise in his tone and she spared him a fleeting smile, though a voice inside was scolding, _"You should not be flirting with this man!"_ and she knew it was right. But she told herself they were just getting in the right mood for the parts they were about to play. And she almost believed it.

They swept into the room. For a moment, Elena was blinded by the flash from the chandeliers, but as her vision cleared, she realized they were strolling into a small crowd that parted like the Red Sea at their approach. And then they were standing in front of a tall, regal man with iron gray hair and proud green eyes.

"Father," Damon was saying. "I'd like you to meet someone very special. This is Elena Gilbert. She has graciously consented to be my wife."

The man had to be shocked by the news, but he didn't let it show.

"Well, Damon," he said softly. "You might have let me know."

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he told him smoothly.

"Oh, I'm surprised," Mr. Salvatore said, fixing him with a steely glare. "Surprised and utterly unconvinced."

Despite his harsh words, Mr. Salvatore stretched out a hand and took one of Elena's.

"Come sit with me, my dear," he said firmly. "I want to get to know you. And I want to hear every detail of your supposed love for my son."

Elena's heart began to race. She hadn't been prepared for quite this hostile a reception and she looked to Damon for a rescue. Luckily, he obliged.

"Later, father," he said, just as firmly as his father had spoken. "Right now, I think Elena and I should lead the others in a dance."

Elena noted the look between the two of them and instinct told her she was being thrust into an argument that had been going on long before she arrived. But there was no time for analysis, as Damon was taking her into his arms and she was immediately intoxicated by his clean male scent.

For a few minutes the rhythm of the music and the power of his body against hers threatened to send her reeling. But she regained her senses slowly, and as she did, she realized they were the only ones dancing, and that all the others had formed a circle around them and were staring intently.

"It's almost all women," she whispered as she looked around the room. "Damon, what is going on?"

"It's a marriage mart," he told her with a grimace. "My father's idea. He's brought in every eligible woman he could find — daughters of his friends, mostly. I was supposed to pick a bride from among them."

She stared up at him. "You're not serious!"

He shrugged lightly, as though it was nothing really out of the ordinary. "I have certain responsibilities, according to my father. One of them is to marry and procreate. Carry on the family name." His mouth twisted. "Something I have resisted for a good long time. He's almost as disappointed in that as he is in the fact that I went into law instead of medicine."

She let herself relax a little closer to him. "Partial to doctors, is he?"

"Definitely. I come from a long line of them. Stefan, my brother, followed our ancestors' paths but me"...

"I see. So you're a rebel."

"I prefer to see myself as an independent thinker." He gave her a quick smile. "But since I failed him there, he thinks I owe him a wife and family. And he is annoyingly proactive about it."

Elena finally thought she understood. "So that is why we're pretending…."

He quickly stopped her words with a kiss and she gasped.

"Quiet," he reminded her with a significant look. "The point about pretending is that you do it secretly."

Then his gaze dropped to her lips and his eyes darkened. "But to be convincing, we really ought to do more of that kissing," he murmured, and immediately followed through on the suggestion

This was the pretending part, Elena reminded herself groggily, yet it was hard to keep that in mind when Damon's mouth was so hot and his tongue was searching for a response from hers. The room faded and all she could concentrate on was the sense of him, so large, so strong, and so very delicious.

But all that came to an end as the music died away and those watching crowded closer. A tall, blonde woman with a superior air was the first to speak.

"Is this true, Damon?" she demanded, stepping forward. "Are you really engaged?"

Damon draped an arm around Elena's shoulders in a protective gesture. "It's true, Andie. I'm finally spoken for."

The woman was furious. "I flew all the way out here from New York for nothing!"

"You poor dear. Your arms must be killing you." A pretty woman in scarlet joined them, giving Damon a grin and the complaining woman an arch look. "And you really ought to go wash those bugs off your teeth, Andie. Such an ugly sight." She pretended to shudder, but all the time she was looking Elena up and down.

The woman named Andie retreated, outraged, but the newcomer stayed, offering her hand.

"Hi. I'm Caroline. And I must say, you look almost as good in my dress as I do."

"Your dress?" Elena turned to Damon in alarm, but he was smiling at the woman named Caroline with obvious affection. "Meet my sister in law, Elena," he said. "Sorry about the dress, Caroline. It was an emergency situation. I shanghaied her to come to this party and she didn't have time to go home and change."

"You mean, this is your sister in law's dress?" Elena was finally getting the picture.

Caroline laughed, reading her mind. "You thought it belonged to one of his old girlfriends, didn't you? It's mine. I keep a few items of clothing at Damon's office for the times I'm in town and need a quick change." She patted Elena's arm. "Don't worry, Elena. His reputation as a womanizer is highly overrated. I've seen him home with a book to keep him warm many nights and…"

"Caroline is quite a little storyteller," Damon interrupted, taking Elena's arm and maneuvering her away from his sister in law. "Which reminds me. It's about time to tell some stories to my father."

"Do I have to?" Elena dreaded this. "We really didn't plan anything and..."

"Just tell him the truth," he said.

She frowned, not sure what he meant by that. "That we met tonight and fell madly in love?" she asked helplessly.

His crystal-blue eyes were hard to read. "Is that the truth?"

She hesitated, not sure if he was mocking her, or just teasing. But it was too late to find out. He was presenting her to his father again.

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><p><em><strong>AN: thanks for reading and please let me know if you are enjoying it so far. xoxo<strong>_


	3. Passion

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

_**Author's Note:** Thank you all for your reviews! You have no idea how happy you make me. This chapter was not easy for me to write and I hope I didnt mess it up. At least not too much. This story's rate is M from now on. I hope you will continue like it though. I didnt "plan" to go to that direction. Its just happened and I hope I wont dissapoint. This is the first time I tried to write a "love scene". In my previous stories, my beta did the most work on those. I dont have a beta in this one though and so please forgive any grammar/word mistakes. Remember English is not my first language, so please be gentle. :)_

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><p>They had managed to get out of his father's interrogation and Elena could finally breathe normal again. They had lied to him, claiming that all happened very fast between them. They met at work and it was love at first side. Giuseppe was certainly not pleased or convinced by their story, but they were at a public place, with all eyes watching them, so at least, he had been polite. The tension between Damon and his father had been palpable though, the disappointment evident in their interaction.<p>

The city streets were slick with a cold rain that had fallen an hour or so earlier, and the streetlights were reflected in the puddles that had formed, making for a night almost as full of sparkle as Las Vegas. Damon directed his low sports car back to the Salvatore Inc building, so Elena could take her car.

They'd stayed at the party until after midnight. They had a good time... Some things about Elena had surprised and intrigued Damon. He just had to remind himself Elena was the same sort of operator her sister had turned out to be. Which was the reason he'd asked for her help in the first place.

"Do you think in the end your father believed it?" Elena asked him.

"It doesn't really matter. I think he's finally starting to accept the fact that I'm not marrying anyone, especially not someone he pushes at me."

A few moments of silence followed until Elena spoke again "I just want to thank you for this evening."

"Thank me?" Her face looked so lovely in the dim light, he found himself wanting to stare, to fix a copy of her picture in his mind forever.

"Yes." Her quick grin looked impish. "I actually had a lovely time, despite all the ups and downs. It's been so long…." Her voice trailed off and her grin faded.

He caught the note of pain in her voice and looked at her curiously. "I assume you're not married," he said casually. "Are you dating anyone special?" He hated to admit how closely he was watching her face for her reaction to that question.

"I'm not dating anyone at all," she said firmly, her chin high. "And I don't plan to. I gave all that up a long time ago."

"I'm glad you had a good time," he told her as he parked his car beside her's. "Even though I had to blackmail you into going with me."

She laughed, her mood changing like a summer day. Damon got out, walked around the car, opened the door and held out his hand for her to take. "I guess this is it." His smile was lopsided. "Shortest engagement on record." The urge to kiss her grew in his chest and he started toward her, hungry for another taste of her warmth.

She turned around, pressed the Unlock button on her key fob and forced her legs to move. He intercepted the move, taking her hand, turning her towards him. She darted an anguished look of protest at him, caught burning purpose in his eyes, and suddenly her defences caved in, totally undermined by a chaotic craving to know what it would be like at least to be really kissed by him, without anyone watching. "Elena" he murmured, stepping closer, sliding an arm around her waist.

He lifted her hand to his shoulder, left it there and stroked her cheek, feather light fingertips grazing slowly down to trace the line of her lips, his thumb hooking gently under her chin, tilting it up. She was aware of weird little tremors running down her thighs, aware of her stomach fluttering with excitement, aware of her breasts yearning for contact with the hard wall of his chest, aware of the wanton desire to experience this man running completely out of control. He lowered his head. She stared at his mouth coming closer and closer to hers. She did nothing to stop him. It was as though all her common-sense mechanisms were paralysed. His lips brushed hers, stirring a host of electric tingles. His tongue swept over them, soothing the acute sensitivity and teasing her mouth open. He began with a soft exploratory kiss, a tasting, not demanding a response but inevitably drawing it with tantalising little manoeuvres.

Elena couldn't resist tasting him right back, revelling in the sensual escalation that sent heat whooshing through her body. The urge to feel him was equally irresistible. Her hand slid up around his neck, her fingers thrusting into his hair, loving its lush thickness. Perhaps it signalled her complete acquiescence to what was happening. Elena was no longer thinking. Her mind was consumed with registering sensation, pleasure, excitement, the rampant desire to have her curiosity about Damon Salvatore satisfied blotting out any other consideration.

His thumb glided along her jawline, caressed the lobe of her ear—an exquisite touch, moving slowly, sensually, under her hair to the nape of her neck. The arm around her waist scooped her into full body contact with him as his kissing became more demanding, less of an invitation, more an incitement to passion. Elena barely knew what she was doing. She loved being held so close to him, feeling the hard, male strength of his physique—the perfect complement to her highly aroused femininity. Excitement was flooding through her. Her mouth hungered for more and more passion from him, exulting in the deeply intimate aggression of his kisses. Never had she been so caught up in the moment. Never had she been driven to respond so wildly, so uninhibitedly.

She felt his hand clutch her bottom, pressing her more tightly into contact with his sexuality. Her stomach contracted at the hard furrowing of his arousal. It should have been a warning to break away from him.

Her body didn't want to. Her body wantonly rubbed itself against the blatant evidence of his excitement, exhilarated by it, madly bent on fanning this desire for her. It was wonderful to feel wanted again. She had been too long alone, and the woman inside her was craving connection—connection with this man, regardless of time and place and circumstances.

He swung her back against the trunk of the car, lifting her onto it, his mouth still ravishing hers as his hand urrowed under her skirt, moved her silk panties aside, found the soft moist furrows of her sex and stroked her to a fever pitch of need, her whole being screaming for it to be fulfilled. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed for her.

It all happened so fast, the jolt when he plunged into her, the savage joy of it, the relief, the release of all nerve-tearing tension as her inner muscles convulsed and creamed around the marvellously deep penetration. And he repeated it, storming her with waves of ecstatic pleasure, pumping hard to the rhythm of his own need until he, too, reached his climax.

She lay limply spreadeagled on the trunk of the car with him bent over her, the heat of his harsh breathing pulsing against her throat. If traffic had passed by them, she hadn't heard or seen it. The night seemed to have wrapped them in a private cocoon, intensifying the feelings that still held her in thrall.

His arms burrowed underneath her, gathering her up. Amazingly her legs were wound around his hips and he supported them in place as he lifted her from the car and carried her to the driver's side, only relinquishing their intimate connection when he opened the door and lowered her to the seat. He kissed her while he fastened the safety belt. She watched him in a daze—this virtual stranger with whom she'd shared such an erotically intimate experience. Languor was seeping into her bones. Somehow any action was beyond her. She barely grasped the fact that he had seized control of the situation, putting her in the car, retrieving her handbag and the car keys which she was now inserting in the ignition. He said something she didn't catch, but she gave him a nod anyway. She started her car and drove off. Her mind was stuck in one groove, endlessly repeating. _"I can't believe I did that. "_

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><p>Damon drove on automatic pilot, his mind still grappling with a loss of control which was totally uncharacteristic, especially in his relationships with women. He'd just acted like a randy teenage boy who couldn't wait to get his rocks off—a rampant bull, incapable of stopping. No sophistication. No finesse. And worse! No thought of protection!<p>

Shock billowed again.

He never took the risk of getting a woman pregnant. The possibility hadn't even entered his head. He'd wanted Elena Gilbert from the moment he'd seen her tonight, wanted her more and more with every minute they spent together, wanted her so much it was impossible to tolerate her driving away from him, but he'd meant to persuade, to seduce, to promise pleasure, not to … "I can't believe I did that," he muttered, shock tumbling into words he didn't mean to speak aloud. He was still out of control.

It had been such an incredible rush—the excitement of her response, the mounting sense of urgency to seize the moment, take it as far as he could, her uninhibited complicity driving him to the edge, past it into plunging chaos. He couldn't remember ever feeling so exultantly primitive. Sex with Elena had to be explored further. Much further.

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><p>Elena let herself into her apartment with a sigh. She felt like Cinderella coming home from the ball. "Well, a very... naughty Cinderella." she scolded herself. Her mind was still clouded. Her actions had been so out of character. But it was over. It was just a night and it was over.<p>

"Elena?"

"Oh!" She jumped, then saw her sister getting up out of a chair in the darkened living room. "Katherine! What are you doing here?" she cried, her hand over her heart.

"Do you have it?" Katherine's gaze raked over her. "Did you get the folder?"

Elena sighed. "Katherine, I told you I'd call you first thing in the morning."

Her sister's eyebrows came together as she realized what her answer was. "That's some dress. I didn't know you had a date tonight."

Date! Elena groaned silently. And suddenly she realized she couldn't tell Katherine about what had happened. She just couldn't talk about Damon with her.

"Katherine, I do have a life," she said, avoiding her sister's gaze and already hating herself for not telling the whole truth. "And as for the folder, no, I wasn't able to get it. I'll have to try again."

Katherine sulked, but it was late and she left soon after. Elena carefully took off the beautiful dress and got ready for bed, but she lay awake for a long time, mulling over all that had happened.

The time she'd spent in Damon's arms had been magical. She felt the thrill again as she went back over each scene. He was a wonderful man in many ways. If only things were different…

But things were the way they were. She'd been in love before. Matt had been just as charming, and he'd turned out to be a liar and a cheat. That realization had stunned her, because she considered herself a fairly intelligent woman and she hadn't caught a hint of it on her own. If she could be so wrong once, how could she ever trust her heart?

And then there was Katherine. Everything that was good in her life seemed to have come at her sister's expense. There had been a time when Katherine had given up everything to make Elena's life easier. She owed her so much. And all Katherine wanted was her love letter to Damon back so that she could put an end to that episode of her life. Instead of getting it back, Elena had spent a wonderful evening with the man who was holding on to it.

Why couldn't she tell Katherine the truth? After all, she'd been blackmailed into going out with Damon. And it was all Katherine's fault. But everything that happened after the party...in the parking lot for God's Shake!

That should prove to her how impossible it would be to even dream of any sort of relationship developing with him.

You've barely known the man for a few hours, she reminded herself. It was a Cinderella adventure. But you didn't leave any slippers behind, and no prince is going to come looking for you. Grow up!

* * *

><p>No slippers perhaps, but Elena had forgotten the little flashlight she'd used to look for the folder the night before. It was the first thing Damon saw when he went into his office in the morning. He picked it up and stared at it.<p>

His mind went back over the previous evening. Such a short time ago, and yet somehow things had changed because of it. He knew he felt different, had a new sense of restlessness. Was it all because of Elena? He didnt like that. He wasnt looking for more than a bed partner … no, he wasn't going down that road again, having almost been drawn into proposing marriage by Rose who had presented herself as the perfect wife for him, so perfectly obliging to his every need and desire it had struck a slightly uneasy chord in him, though not enough to pull him back from the brink until the deception unravelled.

Too few marriages worked for long, especially in his social set, and there was nothing more sour than the financial fallout that came with divorce. He'd witnessed enough of those problems with his friends' marriages.

Damon doubted there was a woman alive who could interest him enough to want to share more than even a few months with her. They invariably turned out to be too damned full of themselves. I want … I need … look at me … talk to me. If I'm not the centre of your universe, I'm going to sulk or throw a tantrum.

And then it was Katherine, what she had done… She was Elena's sister and Elena probably knew the truth about that file. What did that say about her?

But he just wanted another _taste_. Last night hadn't been enough. He hadnt finished with her yet. Not yet. He wanted more...He needed more of her...

Elena looked up and down the long hallway, her heels clicking on the expensively tiled floor as she moved. When she saw his name printed in black block letters on the gold door plate at the end of the hall, her stomach jumped and she had the sudden urge to turn and run. But she' d made up her mind to do this, so she would. Raising a hand, she knocked, and then wiped her damp palms on the sides of her black skirt. She heard mumbling from the other side, perhaps even a curse, followed by a grumbled, " Come in." Twisting the knob, she pushed the dark wooden door open and stepped inside.

"Hi," Damon said, smirking. He dropped the pen in his right hand on top of the papers he' d been working on and leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the padded arms and steepling his fingers in front of him as he rocked back and forth, back and forth.

Inwardly, she cringed. "Hi," she said back "I just came to let you know that I dropped the dress at the cleaners on the first floor. Here's the claim ticket for it."

"I am glad you are here" Damon said softly "Actually I wanted to talk to you about..." He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, speaking with quiet urgency. "Last night … I didn't use any protection and I didn't ask if you were on the pill. I've been worried that you might have fallen pregnant.‟

"Oh!‟ She felt her cheeks burning up. "It's okay," she assured him. "That was a safe time for me. You don't have to worry any more."

"A safe time?" he queried, frowning as though he didn't quite understand.

"In my monthly cycle," she explained.

"You don't normally use any contraceptive device?"He sounded incredulous, as though any woman in her right mind shouldn't be protecting herself against accidents. Undoubtedly the women he mixed with did.

She leaned forward to make her position very plain, flushing with the violence of her feelings on his fly-by-night attitude. "I dont think I am your type. . I don't do sex on a casual basis and I haven't been in a relationship for over two years so I have no reason to be always ready."

"Ah!‟ A smile of satisfaction tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Then, I'm glad you found me as irresistible as I found you"

She stared at him sternly, trying to focus. "Tell me. Have you reconsidered giving me my sister's love letter?"

"Love letter?" Damon's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Who said it was a love letter?" he murmured coldly, pushing slowly to his feet and moving around his desk. He paused directly in front of her, with fewer than three feet of space between them.

She blinked, startled by his reaction. "What else could it be?"

He snorted "What your sister and I had together could hardly be called an affair of the heart."

Of course. She knew that. He didn't have love affairs. He had sexual encounters.

"Has your heart ever been touched in any meaningful way?" she asked him softly.

His mouth hardened and so did his gaze. "Sure."

She searched in the shadows of his blue eyes. "I don't believe you."

His own hand covered hers, lacing fingers. "Then I'll prove it to you," he said huskily, and he leaned toward her. Elena couldn't move. Frozen to her spot, she closed her eyes and felt his mouth come down on hers, felt her own lips part to accept him, felt him slide inside her, felt the urge to melt against him, hold him close, hold him dear.

But it was all a sham and she knew it. Balling her hands into fists, she shoved hard and pulled herself away from him.

"That's not your heart," she said a bit breathlessly, staring up into his face. "That's your libido." She licked her lips, trying to deny her own reaction to his seduction but her hands were trembling. "Besides, the blackmailing period is over," she insisted. "I don't have to pretend to love you anymore. And you don't have to pretend to love me."

The air was thick and tense, and Elena found her lungs straining for breath with him standing in such close proximity.

Leaning back against the edge of the desk, Damon crossed his arms over his chest and pierced her with that glacial blue glare. He let his gaze travel blatantly down her body, past her breasts, her waist, her hips, until they caught and held on the expanse of leg left visible below the hem of her skirt, which fell just above her knees.

"Nothing is over, until I say so," he said before dragging his eyes reluctantly back to her face.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: I hope this was not too awful... Please let me know what you think about it. Thanks! <strong>_


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